


Returning Home Is A Wonderful Thing

by PenguinKiwis



Series: In Where Plo's Sticker Habits Save More Than Morale [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Other, Plo Koon's Uncle loves his family, Stickers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:20:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29538810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinKiwis/pseuds/PenguinKiwis
Summary: Fey Koon returns to Coruscant after a two week long diplomacy mission.
Relationships: 104th Battalion | Wolfpack Battalion & Plo Koon's Uncle, Boost & Sinker & Plo Koon's Uncle, Boost & Sinker (Star Wars), Kit Fisto & Plo Koon's Uncle, Kit Fisto/Plo Koon, Plo Koon & Plo Koon's Uncle
Series: In Where Plo's Sticker Habits Save More Than Morale [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2128161
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	Returning Home Is A Wonderful Thing

**Author's Note:**

> He's been mentioned before, but now, here he is in his full, uh, glory. Plo Koon's Uncle whose name is unknown so I gave him the name Fey because I could.
> 
> Also on a more serious note, if you are currently in Texas please, please stay warm. Terracotta furnaces work, try and stick to one room in your house to keep as warm as possible, and don't take too many risks like attempting to drive right now. I can't do much but offer advice and fanfic right now, so please stay as safe and as warm as you can.

Fey Koon's joints ached.

It had been a long time since they ached like they were now, though he supposed that it was his own fault. Pushing himself to the limits and taking solo missions instead of accepting a battalion of his own, he supposed it was simply the price of his course of action. Certainly, he would be sore and stiff when he woke tomorrow. And really, given his age, he should consider retiring and returning back to Dorin.

But the war effort was long and harsh on everyone, and he couldn't throw the towel in yet.

Fey wasn't young anymore. Still as strong as ever— A Master, in his own right— but he wasn't young. Even if he did take on the more brutal, solo-missions and even if he was just taking on droids. Certainly, he was glad that it was just droids he had to deal with.

Just like his relatives, his skill in the force was very strong. Not as strong as Plo, of course. He was the High Council Master— Sha was still a Knight and Fey hardly considered himself to hold the title of Master— and he was one of the rare few who could conjure up the Lightning of Dorin in the form of what the Jedi called "Electric Judgement". Truly, his nephew was a talented one, even among the Baron Do— to his knowledge, only the highest in power among the ranks could conduct the white lightning of Dorin.

(Though he did know that Plo's bolts were an emerald green color. Perhaps there was more that the Elder Sages could tell them, perhaps it was simply because Plo handicapped himself for the sake of the Order. Who was to say? He hadn't studied the lightning storms extensively.)

Plo was very powerful for his age, there were those even older among the Sages who did not have as much as a grasp on the Force that he did. And Sha was coming into her own strength as well, despite being so much younger than the both of them.

Ah, but it was better to think of his nephew and grand-niece as being older than he knew they were, Fey reasoned as his steps carried him through the Barracks. Personally, he had no wish to think about his grand-niece out in the field. Just like he hated to think back on when he could've lost his nephew to the unforgiving vacuum of space.

But that was just how the Koon Clan was.

Compassionate and loving to a fault. Plo was so bursting with love in his heart that Fey sometimes wondered if the Jedi path was right for him— but it seems that his nephew had found a way around Attachments without being selfish.

Caring and forming attachments not because of what his men were to him, but who they were to themselves. Unless if actively put their lives at risk, Fey knew that Plo would never dissuade any of his men— his _sons_ — from doing anything they wished to do.

(Fey loved all his grandnephews. It pained him whenever he could feel Plo's distress over his fallen sons. He wished it wasn't so and that the war would end soon so that his nephew could take his boys and retire somewhere where the clones could relax and be at ease. Though he also knew that Plo would be unlikely to ever leave the Order. They were, after all, both Koons, and traveling the galaxy was in their blood.)

Still, Fey sometimes wondered if his choice to join the Order was alright. If his choice to bring Plo into the Order, to help Plo bring Sha into the Order, if those choices were right. Plo would've been the strongest of the Sages from the Koon family line to date, had he chosen to stay and learn from the Baran Do instead. Revered and with a strong pull as one of their most prominent leaders— even now, it was only because Tila knew that Plo was a Jedi that kept her from appointing him to a higher position within the Sages.

But as laugher and shouts sounded from the Barracks, he knew that even if he _had_ made the wrong choice, it wasn't one he'd change. Not for anyone, or anything.

Heads turned when the doors opened and he smiled behind his mask as Boost and Sinker's expressions morphed from confusion to joy.

" _Ba'vodu!"_ both troopers greeted, waving from their spots atop of a stack of crates. Comet and Warthog both waved as well, the two of them going through the crates as soon as they were lifted down. Fey walked over to them, bowing slightly in greeting.

"Hello, boys," he greeted, reaching up and helping Boost off of the top of the crates with a simple use of the Force— Sinker dropping down without a thought after his brother was set down. "You wouldn't happen to know where my Nephew is?"

Ah, there were those shit-eating grins he missed so much from the two.

"Probably attached to General Fisto, sir!" Comet chirped happily and Warthog shook his head. "He and the 272nd arrived just before you did!"

Fey sighed in mock lament but smiled behind his mask.

"I suppose I'll have to break up the happy couple then?" he mused before shaking his head as Boost and Sinker snickered.

"Is there any maintenance you need to be done on your ship, General? I can head over to the Hangar, if you would like me to," Warthog offered, ignoring his brothers. He shook his head,

"It's quite alright, my boy," he told him easily, "The wonders of doing solo missions. And it was only a diplomatic talk this time, no worries there."

The pilot shrugged but nodded. "If you say so, sir."

He simply smiled behind his mask and pat him on the shoulder before he turned. "Well, make sure you drop by the briefing room later," he told the four over his shoulder as he headed off to where he _knew_ his nephew was.

It wasn't hard to find him, to be fair. He had known Plo since he had been born, ingrained his force signature into his mind, and it was a beautiful thing. The Force, in general, was beautiful, and many sentients had no idea just how amazing it was.

But he digresses as he reached the door to Plo's office, allowing both his presence to be felt through the force and the mental link between him and his nephew before he knocked lightly on the metal door.

There was silence for a moment, two, stretching into more before the door slid open. His nephew's chosen, the Nautolan Master Kit Fisto, was sitting on the couch in the office, robes looking a bit hastily thrown on— wrinkled and untucked. He had a datapad in hand, looking up at him when he stepped in. But there was an air around him that made Fey raised a brow behind his goggles before he looked to his nephew, who was leaning against the front of his desk, another datapad in hand, though his own robes were a bit rumpled as well. And he was very much wearing Kit's outer robe instead of his usual one, which was folded over the back of his chair.

"Oh dear, I hope I wasn't interrupting," the Elder of the Koon Jedi said, amusement heavy in his voice and he saw Kit's head tresses curl from the corner of his eye.

Plo shifted. "Not at all, Uncle," he told him, lowering the datapad. "Have you just returned?"

"Recently yes," he answered, nodding, though he couldn't help but smile behind his mask. Plo was quite good at covering his flustered state, but he was nonetheless. It was adorable to see. Sha was so serious, honestly!

"I was simply dropping by to check on everything before I started on my report to Master Windu."

"Mission reports," Kit mused, nodding. "The bane of my own existence, among other things."

"I'm almost certain that Commander Monnk does those for you," Plo drawled, "Your handwriting is atrocious."

Kit made a huffing noise, tresses flicking a bit though there was a glint of humor in his eyes as he leaned forwards on his knees a bit. "Mace said my handwriting was fine, Plo."

"And yet neither Shaak nor Ki-Adi will read the reports you send in," his nephew mused, clicking in amusement as he leaned back again. Kit raised a brow, scowling as he waved the statement off.

"Ki-Adi's finicky about that garbage and Shaak doesn't even do her _own_ reports now, just sends a holo instead of paperwork," he countered, grinning.

Fey tilted his head as he watched the two.

"Are you certain I didn't interrupt anything?" he asked again, grinning behind his mask when the two startled, attention snapping back to him and his grin only grew at the darker flush of green spreading across Kit's face and the darker red hue across Plo's.

Kit coughed a bit. "Apologies, Fey," he said and the elder Jedi just laughed in return, hands clasped carefully behind his back.

"Think nothing of it," he told the Nautolan. "It's refreshing in truth." He sighed, cradling his head with one hand carefully. "Plo used to be so serious after he was first put on the Council."

"Uncle!"

Fey shook his head in mock lament, ignoring the indignant clicks from his nephew. "Where was the little 'dor that Tyvokka and I looked after? Dear me, I was worried I would have to write to Lorz that his son was becoming just like our _Obi_."

Plo just made another clicking noise, rolling his eyes behind his goggles. Kit chuckled.

"Nonetheless, Uncle It's good to know that you're well," his Nephew said, affection bleeding into their bond, and Fey smiled softly.

"Thank you, my Nephew," he said lightly before he bowed. "Well, I won't leave you two from each other for much longer," he added, humor in his tone as both the younger Jedi Masters' signatures spiked slightly- embarrassment, he thinks.

He just laughed as he turned back to the door, leaving with a smile. He did have to head down to the briefing room, after all.

Fey smiled and nodded to a few of the 104th Soldiers that he passed. Ember, he recognized with the strangely bright, amber eyes that his brothers didn't have, and of course, Ghost was with him, both carrying medical supplies. Both of them nodded to him as Nox slipped past all three of them, long hair tied back in a braid as he hurried down the hall, looking more than suspicious. Fey's curiosity was sated when he saw Nex chasing after him, his normally dark hair dyed a bright pink color and Ghost rolled his eyes as they continued on their separate ways.

Data and Cable were in the briefing room, with a Jedi Master that Fey was unfamiliar with dozing on one of the couches that the boys had brought in— though knowing Wolffe, Boost, and Sinker, it was more like _stole_. Probably from the Five-Oh-First. Both brothers were sitting on the back of the couch, Cable seemed to be watching the Shistavanen Jedi.

"Hey, _Ba'vodu,_ " Data greeted, not looking up from the datapad he was looking through. Cable waved a bit as Fey bowed to them.

"Hello, you two," he said gently, walking over to the large table that was supposed to be for strategic planning but was mostly covered in nicknacks and food at the moment.

"How was your mission, Sir?" Cable asked voice soft as the Shistavanen flicked an ear.

He chuckled softly. "It went well," he told him, tone just as soft as the other's. "Who is your friend there?"

Data looked up at that, his normally stoic face softening a bit. "Voolvif Monn. He's our other General now," he told him, "Lost his entire battalion in an ambush that left them buried alive in a ravine."

Fey walked around the table and over to the couch, gazing down at the sleeping canine and gently reaching out. Monn's mind was tense, scared, and weary, but it was healing. Slowly but surely, the bitter pain was easing, being filled with the warmth of the 'Pack, with Plo and Kit and the 272nd, and little Ahsoka too. His gaze softened before he withdrew and turned to the two brothers.

"You boys are taking good care of him?" he asked and Cable looked almost offended.

" _Ba'vodu_ ," he gasped in mock offense. "As if we would do anything _but!"_

He laughed gently at that before he dug through his robes and pulled out a brown flimsibag and opened it.

He had to admit that his Nephew had good ideas, and every time he was off of Coruscant but still in the Core Worlds, he ended up looking around for the colorful adhesives that Plo had started to hand out to his soldiers— his _sons_ — in the 104th. They were few and far between, but he had found some on his last diplomatic mission.

But that was beside the point as both Cable and Data perked up upon seeing what he was handing over to them both.

"Really?" Cable asked with a grin and Fey smiled, nodding.

"I do believe that you boys have a competition going on?" he asked as he set the bag on the table.

"Hell yeah we do," Data grunted, leaning back as far as he could without falling over the back of the couch. Fey chuckled again.

"There should be one for each of your brothers in there," he told the two as he headed back towards the door. "Good luck to you all. Do tell me who wins, this week."

"Yes, sir!"

He waved as he left the briefing room, a happy hum settling in his mind as he walked, back through the barracks. Grey paint began to blend with Green, Red, and Blue as he left, bowing and nodding to the other soldiers he knew and he smiled under his mask as he gazed up at the Coruscant sky.

It was nice to be back home.

**Author's Note:**

> [slams hands down] anyways I love Fey. If you haven’t read my other fics basically Kel Dor’s concept of gender has only been influenced by the other worlds. They’re nonbinary until a certain age, then they follow whichever feeling to either end of the spectrum. Some stay in the middle, others fall all along the spectrum— there’s no definite man/woman in the culture, but off-world they use male/female/nonbinary because it's easier. All Kel Dor can sire or bear children. Don't think too much about it.
> 
> Obi is a term in Yoruba that means ‘parent’ and is used for those who chose not to fall into the definite male/female once the rest of the galaxy influenced Dorin. This was the closest word that I could find in the human language that wasn't something like, uh, dom (dad/mom) or anything that just didn't seem to fit with what little we know about the Kel Dor language. I am in no way, shape, or form attempting to say that the Kel Dor culture is the same as the Yoruba culture, and I greatly hope that this doesn't offend someone. I was just trying to find a gender-neutral form for a parent that wasn't just 'parent'.
> 
> Fey’s mother is named Bou and his Obi is name Kier— which is close to the patriarch of the Koon Clan’s name, Kyr. Hm. Now that I think about that, this could get confusing because uh Obi-Wan. I'll italicize when I use Obi for parent, and I'll probably use Obi-Wan's full name instead of calling him "obi" too.


End file.
